


Damned Are the Dead

by Ryel



Category: rise of the guardians
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Swearing, graphic depictions of corpses/decay, maybe friends to lovers we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:44:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryel/pseuds/Ryel
Summary: Something is stealing corpses. It's almost Christmas and even the turkey is gone. Jack has no proof and he has to work alone, but he's also the most vulnerable to this new threat. Circumstances force him to team up with his ex--enemy.





	1. It Starts With a Loss

Jack was in the low branch of a bare tree overlooking Burgess pond. A serenity firmly settling with the soft, fluffy snow slowly coating everything. The moonlight left a blue tint to the landscape, and the dips and curves of the land left gray and black patches.

He stared hard at the frozen surface of the water, as faint but warm memories of his little sister danced in his mind. He had given up trying to remember her name some months ago, and clung desperately onto what little he had left of her. Her voice, her laugh, her face, that she played hopscotch every morning.

His quiet reminiscing was eventually interrupted by the telltale crunch of older, previously tread-upon snow. From his wooden perch, he watched the solemn approach of young Jamie Bennett. He was immensely thankful that it didn't appear as though years had passed while he was introspecting. Fortunately he could count on one hand the number of times he'd done that. After a few moments, he plopped just under the bough Jack was lazing on and soft sniffling echoed across the icy surface before them.

A deep unsettling paranoia that he wasn't seen flooded the frozen boy but he gave no sign of it as he simply waited. He didn't breathe. He could feel the phantom pressure and weight of the panic, but his chest was as still as the dispassionate atmosphere of winter encompassing them.

“Jack…?” A grief that was a bit too profound for a nine year old boy reverberated through the small clearing.

“Yeah, kiddo?” He replied after gathering enough air into his lungs to push past his vocal cords smoothly.

“Abby’s gone.”

Silence ensued between them and even the forest trees seemed to sigh.

“I know--”

“No, Jack. She died yesterday. Today she's gone.” The, now shivering, boy emphasized.

Jack Frost pondered what existential meaning this might have and supposed it had just hit Jamie that he won't be greeted by her in the morning, tackled as they played, and warmed and protected from the Easter Bunny at night.

He wasn't sure what words of wisdom or comfort he could provide. The only personal death he'd experienced was his own and it was so long ago and faded in his mind that it didn't bother him much. But Jamie's loss was not self-sacrifice. It was close, and it was fresh, and someone he loved, even if she was a dog, was taken from him. Jack couldn't understand what that was like, even if he could sympathize. Sandy’s temporary death was horrific enough, and he had barely known the golden spirit.

“I know it's hard now, but it will get easier. It’ll take time, maybe a very, very long time, but your mom and I will be here to listen to you and support you. It's ok to miss her as long...o-or as short as you do.” Jack eventually said, feeling like a useless, giant assclown.

“Do you think...the boogeyman had something to do with it?”

Jack blinked very slowly. Was Jamie seriously asking him if Pitch hit Abby with a car? Or scared her into chasing that squirrel into the street? Murdered a dog as some crazy and super petty revenge plot? Cause fucking no he did not think that.

“...I really don't, Jamie.”

“I just don't understand why her body would just disappear like that…”

Clearly they were not on the same page here. But no matter, as Jack was finally caught up and hadn't said anything he wanted to take back.

“Pitch deals in nightmares and fear, what would he gain by taking Abby’s body?” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah but it's just so strange it looked like she dug her way out. Maybe another evil spirit was involved?” He hedged.

While Jack wouldn't exactly label The Nightmare King as evil himself, Jamie was one of the few that had every right to. However an animal likely dug Abby up and Jamie's mom dealt with the ugly aftermath. He wasn't about to explain that to Jamie though. So his answer was silence.

“Maybe you should see it? Maybe you could like feel the energy there or something and recognize it? Something!”  
Jamie rambled.

“I’ll come take a look but that's not really how it works.” Jack chuckled.

“I mean how did they tear through the casket like that?”

 _The what now?_ Jack’s thoughts sputtered. Did people really just spend money like that on dogs now? Jack himself had neither casket nor tombstone, just a simple cedar cross that had long since degraded next to his father’s. He wasn't sure the ritual or pricing of the current age as the subject of death often made him uncomfortable and tended to avoid it. On another note, no animal had ripped through a casket if it wasn't a bear. Extremely unlikely, but he'd have to see the scene of the crime as it were.

He unhooked his staff from a nearby limb and leapt to the ground gracefully. He began a fairly slow pace to Jamie's house, after all it wasn't very far.

“Let's get you home and warm and I'll take a look ok, kiddo?” He declared, walking backwards to look at the boy.

“Ok! I'll do some research too and let you know what I find!” Jamie added as he nodded and stood. He excitedly used a much quicker pace than Jack. He smiled to see the kid brighten somewhat despite the unfortunate circumstances.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Unnatural was the only feeling this fancy backyard dog grave had. Jamie, he wasn't just talking when he spoke about the energy. It was heavy and dark like tar: like death itself. Splinters of the thick oak coffin were strewn about the yard as if something inside it had exploded, but there was no char.

Even though it had only been a day, the thick stench of decay both permeated and overpowered the garden. The sweet of honeysuckle replaced by rancid grocery meat. No it wasn't Abby's body that left this smell, it was something else, something foul.

What, who, and why he didn't know, but nothing good. Jamie was right. Jack wasn't the type to jump to rash conclusions but even he couldn't deny the sinister happenings in this little garden. As much as he was so not looking forward to it, preemptive action needed to be taken. He had to tell the Guardians.


	2. A Call for Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack goes to the pole for help. Also ily all!

The flight to the Pole was uneventful and helped to calm some of the bugs crawling under Jack's skin. The cold bite of the northern air, though harrowing for others was soothing, like a warm duvet, to him. The soft glow of the lights of Santoff Claussen against the dark and vastly empty tundra were like a comforting candle in the night.

Though it unnerved him that he had been so shaken to the core by that lingering energy at the gravesite. He honestly hadn't encountered many a spirit that could unsettle him so thoroughly, and never with an indirect encounter. The few he had met he’d enough of a brain to get the fuck out. But this was an entity he couldn't run from, this was one he was obligated to confront. At the very least, he was certainly grateful he had the Guardians to rely on now or he'd use the same strategy as usual.

Arriving at the workshop kicked up his anxiety again though, overpowering the fuzzy feelings the fortress emanated. He was in for a lot of debate and negotiation as soon as he landed, and he was not a huge fan of either. He mentally steeled himself as he came to berth.

After assuring Phil the yeti that he was there strictly on business, and swore that he would cause no trouble, he was allowed hesitant entry to the workshop. Not that he wouldn't cause a little trouble anyway.

The clusterfuck of grunts, yelling, banging, tinkering, and the occasional groan of despair was instantly overwhelming. As much as Jack hated it, he craved it. There was so much life and energy around him that it was both terrifying and thrilling. Although, it was nothing compared to the shrill screech of an excited child, he was certain he would never become desensitized to either.

With Christmas in only a few weeks, Jack didn't do anything to disrupt the yeti, just froze an elf that was being somewhat of a nuisance here and there. Honestly some of the yeti even looked grateful. As he floated to the other side of the workshop, dismissing the walkway altogether, and carefully dodging the wondrous toys, he mentally went over what exactly he was going to say. He hoped North wasn't too busy to take a knee with the youngest Guardian.

With a deep breath, he knocked with a dedication he only distantly felt, a primal urging somewhere deep within he didn't fully comprehend. Some clattering, breaking ice, and a frustrated whine later the door was thrown open.

“What is it!?” North demanded looking angrily at the space above Jack's head for a moment, having clearly been expecting a yeti.

“North, there's something going on and I have reason to believe the children are in danger.” Jack explained evenly. He sighed in relief that it all came out so confident.

North looked down with a quirked brow. He frowned deeply, gestured into his office wordlessly, and moved to sit back down. The room was a lot more disordered and cluttered than the last time, when he was forcibly invited. The project in front of North was what had broken, and Jack had never seen a spirit look so exhausted. It touched him that North was taking the time to hear what he had to say despite it all, even though it was likely just because that was his duty as a Guardian.

“Talk, Jack. What have you seen? Is it Pitch?” He urged.

“No, I think it's something else, something worse.” Jack relented quietly.

“Worse?” He asked skeptically.

“Jamie's dog Abby died and--”

“Jack I am being very sorry about that, truly, but please be getting to the cutting of the chase.” North glanced at a calendar of all things and sighed heavily.

“Someone or something stole her body from an oak casket four feet underground.” He ground out bluntly, “Left behind a dirty feeling and an awful smell. The dog had only been dead for maybe 10 hours, but the smell of ancient decay was all over the gravesite.”

North seemed to--if possible--lose his jolly cheek tinge, and his eyebrows slowly rose. But he glanced at the calendar again and grumbled softly.

“What gives you idea that children are in danger?” He asked gently, “There are many dark spirits, Jack. Dog corpse is sad but not child.”

“My belly.”

North erupted into boisterous laughter, slamming one hand on the wood, it knocked some of the ice shards to the plush red carpet below, and he took a while to calm.

“Jack you are being so funny always!! Only Santa’s belly talks!” He finally, breathlessly replied with mirth.

“Well what does your belly say?” Jack countered thoughtfully with a smirk, he leaned on his shepherd’s crook coyly.

North’s eyebrows dropped in concentration as he seriously considered. He raised a brow, stroking his beard and looking at Jack. As the boy met the piecing blue gaze he recalled the conversation they had about the wonder North saw in everything, and he yearned to know what those eyes saw in him. He seemed to have found something as he suddenly became pensive.

“My belly says something is wrong, and children are indeed at risk.” He confirmed.

Jack's face grew a hopeful smile, his eyes glinted with it too, “Then--”

“However,” North interrupted loudly, ripping that smile right back off, “I can not spare the time! Christmas is coming, goose is getting fat, and we must keep belief strong.”

“But--”

“You may use emergency lights and upper level, but must solve this only with rest of Guardians until Holiday is over.” North stood from his desk with the kind of finality most people just didn't argue. Jack was not most people.

“Will you at least--” Just as he was getting kinda sick of being interrupted, he was gently guided out the door and locked out. “...help me convince them?” He finished in defiance of the fact that he wouldn't be heard.

He groaned in mounting frustration and flopped against the thick door childishly. He slid to the stone floor, stared blankly up at the globe and inhaled sharply.

“Well, that went well.”

A brown yeti walking by grunted their dissent.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Jack honestly processed for a long time whether or not to call the rest of the Guardians on his own. Although he was technically a member they weren't really his team to summon. That was more North’s role. However, there was a threat to the children and that's all that should matter.

He huffed and flew up to the control panel for the globe. He knew whatever triggered the Aurora was located there somewhere but he had never actually seen it activated. He tinkered with the controls, changing the speed at which the globe turned, the axis, and what color the lights shone. He was having some quality fun until Phil suddenly nudged him out of the way and activated the Aurora for him.

“I was getting there.” Jack excused with a sly grin.

Phil merely raised one bushy brow, skepticism dripping from his fur. He righted the globe settings and trudged back to work with a huff.

“I heard Phil poops on parties.” Jack mock whispered to another nearby yeti. They nodded agreement and Phil glanced back looking genuinely offended. Jack shrugged with wide eyes and pointed the blame to his accomplice, but Phil only shook his head and continued walking away.

The youngest Guardian decided to forego the elevator altogether, weaving and dodging his way to the upper level. He had a close call with some kind of floating toy squid, but neither he nor the cephalopod were worse for the wear from the encounter.

After the narrow miss, his eyes were immediately drawn to a small and familiar figure. Sandy was already up there doing shots of eggnog in quick succession when he alighted. Jack balked at him and Sandy froze before they smirked at each other.

“How are you doin’, Sandman?”

The golden man smiled and gave him two thumbs up. He paused and sand images of a snowflake and a question mark appeared above him. Jack was getting better at interpreting him after learning some of the personal images Sandy used.

“Snow days are in full swing, can't complain about the weather.” Jack winked.

Sanderson chuckled silently and wagged a finger at him, as if to say ‘Oh, you’. The image of the small children of Burgess and another question mark formed between them.

“Ah, yeah. They're doing alright. Jamie's had a hard loss, his dog Abby, but he's a tough kid.”

Sandy nodded sympathetically.

“Oi, where's North? Never thought he'd call this close to Christmas!” A gruff voice rang.

Sandy and Jack turned to look at the rabbit, already warming his giant feet by the fireplace. Sandy shrugged and Jack smiled nervously.

“Actually he didn't.” Jack began gently.

Sandy turned back and his eyes widened a fraction. A golden snowflake made another appearance.

“You?” Bunny demanded in arrogant disbelief.

“I mean, technically it was Phil.” Jack dodged, raising his hands in surrender.

“This better not be a joke, mate!” The spring spirit growled in anger.

“Many things I do are, but this isn't one of them.” He quietly defended.

“You best start explaining yourself, Frostbite.” The rabbit said coldly, giving him a harsh glare.

Sandy waved a gold tooth in front of Bunny’s muzzle.

“He’s right. We should wait for Tooth.” Jack pointed out and slung his staff over one shoulder. He did not want to go through this three times.

“Looks no further boys! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!” She fluttered in with a small army and an aura of bubbly cheer. She hugged Jack from behind and joined in the loose circle. Jack preemptively grabbed her hand before it pulled apart his lips to observe his teeth and she pouted.

“Spit. It. Out. Depending on your answer we just may have one less Guardian.” Aster threatened.

“Bunny!” Tooth scolded. The baby teeth squeaked their worry, while Sandy crossed his arms and shook his head in clear dissatisfaction.

“Before I start can I just say that North’s belly agrees with me?” Jack asked sheepishly.

“Right.” The Easter Guardian drawled sarcastically.

Sandy gestured with both hands for Jack to continue with his piece.

Jack hurriedly went over the key points of events and observations of the backyard, with a surprising lack of interruptions. The Guardians all patiently waited for him to finish speaking before adding their two cents.

“Ain't much to go on though, mate. We got a missing dog...body and a nasty presence, not quite a red-handed crime and culprit. We can't exactly stop our duties with no plan and no true evidence. Though this corpse business don't sit right at all.” Bunny mused.

“Jamie has got tons of information of myths and legends, so he's doing some research. I'm sure he’ll figure out what we're dealing with before even we do.” Jack provided.

“Wait you got Jamie involved? Jack, what were you thinking?” Tooth exclaimed.

“He was already involved. It happened in his backyard. Also, he helped defeat Pitch. What's the big deal?” The frost spirit countered.

“He makes some good points, Sheila.” Bunny snorted. Sandy nodded his agreement.

“But we have no idea what we’re dealing with! Jack, you need to be more careful.” The fairy argued.

“I will be, Tooth, I just think Jamie can read some books without stomping into trouble.” He spat defensively.

“Jack!”

“Listen, all this aside, we do need to know more. I’ll keep an ear out for gossip among the spirits. Sandy and Tooth, you guys keep an eye out for the children. Jack get back to us when there's another chapter to the story. See what Jamie has to say but don't rely on him too heavily. Have a mind of your own.” The Spring spirit ordered.

Everybody confirmed their part and agreed to be on their guard, while Jack nodded reluctantly. Tooth flew off spewing commands to the baby teeth. Bunny pranced his way out of the building without so much as a ‘bye now’. With a friendly pat on the shoulder and an encouraging smile from the Sandman, he departed as well.

Jack was on his own again.


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more light is shone on the unknown enemy. Jack makes a huge discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is NOT in this chapter sorry I swear I'm getting there

After his tentative success with the Guardians, Jack kept his vigilance focused on Burgess. He honestly wasn't paying much attention elsewhere as the small town seemed to have been where it had all started. And, well, Burgess was home.

The missing corpses steadily increased, both in frequency and variety. Escalating from dogs and cats to human corpses. The Burgess Observer, the local newspaper, passed it off as a few incidents of grave robbing, though it was likely even adults could sense at least some of that horrid aura. Most humans did seem to use logic and science to deny or explain away their fears these days. The children seemed to be more uneasy and although they didn't outright talk about the news, there were whispers of an unknown monster. He wondered what effect this indirect belief might have on the entity.

Jack shook his head and sighed. It wasn't just a few isolated incidents, the forgotten graves of the past were missing the bones of friends and villagers he knew of. Even his own grave had been unearthed, thankfully it was already empty. Which didn't keep that deep-seated instinct from screaming at him, but a snow day in Burgess seemed to stave it off. It was harder to get through frozen ground, after all.

Still, the count was rising: over 30 missing, including cats and dogs. He couldn't be sure how much of the local wildlife would be among that count. Deer were struck by cars all the time. Depending on what was being done with the bones and bodies this was starting to take a serious and nefarious turn.

Jack hopped onto a gentle breeze and wafted to Jamie's house. The weekend had come and gone, so he hoped Jamie had found the time to figure something out. The Guardians definitely wouldn't be getting back to him, nor him to them, unless there were something to offer. He came to rest on the windowsill of the boy’s house and rattled the panes with the breeze: his brand of knocking.

Jamie appeared in the doorway a few minutes later and gave Jack a tired smile, a fraction of the light that usually shone in his face. That simply wouldn't do. Jack pulled from his center to share. He opened the frame and leapt onto the boy’s desk, ridding it of a few papers.

“Jack! I kind of need that if you wanna know what I’ve found!” He giggled.

“Oh, this? My bad, kiddo, I thought it was a pile of snow.” Jack half-heartedly clowned, his face saturated in exaggerated innocence. He did his best. Jamie looked substantially better.

He flipped and hovered lazily, like a smug king, in the air above the desk. After a chuckle, Jamie picked up the few papers that had fluttered to the floor. He rearranged the loose leaf papers into a tidy pile and cleared his throat: a tiny professor. It was adorable. He had clearly been hard at work, judging by the strewn about books on the supernatural. He hoped the passion Jamie had grown after Easter would help redirect his thoughts from Abby.

“So there's a lot of spirits and even humans that could be involved in some of what’s going on. There are liches, zombies, and other random undead. But seeing as there aren't any of those just walking around town at night, I think this is some type of necromancer.”

Jack frowned and landed to look over the youngster’s shoulder at the research. Printed articles with images of beings in dark, hooded robes that in the past, would have made him laugh, but instead sent ice down his spine.

The boy paled and grew quiet. “Either way it's...it’s not likely we’ll get any of Abby back.” His voice broke. Jack rubbed Jamie's upper back to offer comfort. He couldn't use fun to solve that grief every time.

“I can look at more on necromancers, until you and the Guardians figure out where they're hiding.” Jamie resumed after a silent moment of appreciation. “Be careful, Jack. There's no telling how dangerous this person is.”

“Careful is my middle name.” He deadpanned.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Jack once again made the trek to the pole and pondered the information he was given. As he activated the lights to call the Guardians, he went over in his head how he was going to carefully relay it to them. When they arrived though, their stern expressions halted his thoughts.

“J-Jamie narrowed it down to some kind of necromancer…” he said simply.

No one responded at first, and Tooth and Sandy shared a look. Jack felt his stomach churn.

“We haven't seen or heard anything of what you've been talkin’ about, mate. What're you playing at?” Bunny spoke with a calm anger.

“Aster I'm not play--”

“Sandy hasn't seen anything, Tooth hasn't seen anything, and I haven't heard anything, not even from the dark spirits I know.” The Easter Guardian got slightly louder with each point. “So what. Are. You. Playing at, Jack.”

“You're serious? Why would I--”

“I DON’T KNOW!” He spewed, and then took a deep breath. “I don't know you. We’ve only worked with you once.”

Jack felt his lungs empty in shock. He looked to Sandy and Tooth for their say. Sandy said something about his absence last year and he didn't quite understand the full situation.

"Jack it's nothing personal, we want to believe you, but what Bunny is trying to say is right. You're new to the team, we haven't come across any evidence, and well...we all know that you do like to play games and pull pranks." Tooth said it gently but it was fucking harsh.

"Wow, really? Just like that you're...? If--if you guys just _looked_ at Bur--"

"Jack we're done. We've been lookin' for days. It's over." Bunny said with stern finality.

Jack looked back at Tooth and Sandy. They looked away. It was exactly like Easter. No, it was _worse_. Tooth pretty much outright said they didn't believe in him. But Jack didn't wordlessly fly away this time, this was jump-the-gun doubt and plain hurtful.

“Fine, I'll fight this threat alone.” He spat. “Don't worry, I'm used to it.”

_Then_ he flew away.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After the disaster of a meeting, a bit of further investigation revealed that the events were isolated to Burgess and a few nearby towns. It explained why the other Guardians weren't finding anything that pointed to Jack not being a fucking liar apparently. They didn't focus on small areas, they were used to spot checking major cities to search the whole globe. They did always seem to only see the biggest picture. None of the dark spirits that Bunny talked to would have heard anything. This was only, to some extent, Jack's territory, and previously Pitch’s.

It didn't matter. Jack wasn't quite ready to try to face them to explain, and he certainly wasn't expecting them to apologize. They didn't last time. They might not even listen if he tried, after all they didn't know him. That might've made sense a year ago but it didn't now. He supposed that amount of time didn't quite mean as much to them as it did to him, after all it's the first year he wasn't alone.

Sighing as he dropped to his usual branch on the tree by the pond, he was surprised to find Jamie running to meet him.

“Jamie what are you doing? It's getting kinda late don't you think?” He asked in concern.

“I’ll head home in a minute but I had to warn you!”

“About what?” He asked nervously.

“A necromancer can kill or control a spirit. Maybe even one more powerful than they are.” Jamie spoke with a tone of dread. “Like with wights--beings that died as a human before becoming a spirit. Sometimes they leave a corpse but a necromancer can control any type. They can control or destroy basically anything that has ever died. I mean I don't know how common those kinds of spirits are, but you might want to tell the others and watch your back!”

“I think we’ll be ok it seems to only be happening in this area. Watch your back, kiddo.” Jack chuckled. Although, beneath the surface, he had started to panic.

“That's weird...” The boy shrugs and began jogging back home. “See ya later, Jack Frost!”

“See ya.” He replied weakly.

After Jamie was long out of sight, Jack blanched and recalled what he’d said about wights. Necromancers can control anything that has died. Sometimes wights leave a corpse behind. Both were unnerving new facts to him.

The frost spirit...and wight slowly turned his eyes to the frozen surface of the pond.

“No.” He denied. Because it couldn't be. But it could. It made perfect sense.

Delaying as long as possible, he climbed down the tree, and walked to the pond. As he stepped onto the icy exterior his breathing sped up. No, none of that, he didn't want to have to physically force water from his dead lungs...again.

He pulled the frost magic from the ice and it thawed to water. Closing his mouth he dipped below into the cold and dark. The first general search didn't turn up anything, when he sunk to the very bottom. He started again and sifted through the dirt as he continued. It fogged the water around him, but he could still mostly see by the light of MiM, penetrating deeply.

As he dug into the gray and forgotten foundation, he didn't have many thoughts. He wasn't sure what exactly to expect but he was thinking, logically bones: water-worn and covered in algae. He paused, the mental image slipped away with the soil between his fingers. It… _he_ was not bones. There at the bottom, beneath the silt was his frozen, brown-haired, human corpse.


	4. Hide the Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack figures out what to do with the body.

_Well…_ Jack thought, _ok_.

This wasn't nearly as terrifying or disturbing as it should have been. Perhaps he was just in shock, but for now it was mostly just...weird. It wasn't often that Jack actually felt like a supernatural being, however, he was feeling so in that moment.

He carded his fingers along the scalp, feeling the brown hair reverently. This should gross him out he supposed, but he wasn't rotting down here for whatever reason. He was almost as pristine as he was alive, and this corpse was...well him.

He was very unlike a corpse in many ways that he knew, honestly. He was very cold, but wasn't stiff, the blood hadn't pooled or mottled his skin, and his eyes were closed not left lifelessly staring open. It was almost as if he was just sleeping.

He could physically feel a connection to it, but he had no idea the purpose. The weirdness began to fade and the experience turned just really fucking neat. He started to wonder of what he could do, could he possess his own body? Have a temporary return to humanity? What were his weaknesses? How vulnerable would he be if he did repossess his body? What happened to his spirit when his body was injured?

Some things he knew he would not be able to find information on. Simple and careful trial and error experiments would solve that. For the time being though, he had more pertinent things to focus on. Wights were vulnerable to destruction or control by necromancers. The incidents of missing corpses were isolated to the area of Burgess. There was a wight corpse in Burgess. It wasn't difficult for anyone to fit these things together.

Jack knew he should move his corpse out of Burgess, to where, was his greatest issue. He could enlist the protection of it to his allies, but this wasn't exactly his fond idea of ‘coming out’ to the group. He had refrained from revealing the little tidbit of his own mortal end to them. It was way too personal, and he'd assumed it was uncommon. Also, they definitely wouldn't share the positive emotions and the pride he felt when it came to the topic. He wasn't even certain the effect of moving it would have on him or him. Either of him. Both of him.

It was one of those trial and error issues though, as any information may be false misdirects. It was common after all, to help protect spirits, misinformation was inserted here and there. After all it was better to be sprinkled with water or have garlic thrown at you than be staked in the heart or thrown into sunlight.

He could warn someone, Jamie, a Guardian, but if he got to work and successfully removed himself from Burgess the main threat would be solved. No, Jack gallivanted around Burgess practically all day for 300 years and never has this necromancer so much as shown an interest in his spirit self. He was literally digging around for what Jack now held gently in his arms. That much was clear.

He tucked an arm beneath his body's knees, carefully maneuvering his staff, and another around his shoulders, letting his head fall against his chest. He walked along the bottom of the pond, climbing the slope into the shallows. As they breached he fairly immediately required the assistance of the wind. He mounted clumsily, almost dropping himself, but eased into accounting for the double weight.

He hovered above the pond, considering good places to hide a body like some guilty murderer.

“Uh, what do I do?” He mused to himself. He definitely wasn't expecting an answer. Especially not from the guy that, without fail, ignored him for three centuries.

The moonlight shone in a concentrated beam and onto the pond water in front of him. An image appeared and it looked oddly like Pitch Black.

“What is this? What happened to, you know, actually talking to me? Like the first and second time? What _about_ Pitch?” Jack huffed.

The image shifted to Jack standing across from the boogeyman, handing him his staff, Pitch not yet taking it from him but holding the other end. He squints at the moon in bafflement.

A golden glow and familiar tinkle suddenly poked into the edge of the clearing and Jack did drop himself, straight back into the water. There was only a small splash, as he wasn't far from the water but he was certain he'd been caught.

He watched passively as Sandy approached with sad eyes and head bowed slightly. He didn't seem to have caught Jack in his little ongoing lie of omission. Sandy flashed an apology, that he was wrong not to believe him, and that he wanted to hear Jack's side of the story from Easter.

Lovely and touching as all this was, this was the absolute worst time. Jack knew he could probably wait, spare the time for this conversation but anxiety was wearing at him. Vulnerability was fucking nerve wracking.

“Thank you so much, Sandy. None of the other Guardians ever...” Jack's voice quivered. He then noticed the dead body could still be slightly seen beneath the surface of the clear water. It was closer to the shoreline and the pond was rather pure. He immediately obscured it with frost and he flashed a strained smile.

Sandy nodded fervently, taking Jack's hands in his own smaller ones, as he comprehended the reaction as a different sort of tension. His hands were were warm and the frost spirit felt his fingers twitch, desperate to clutch them greedily.

“You have no idea what this means to me.”

Sandy tilted his head and nodded, still holding Jack's hands, and gave them a tender squeeze.

“I want to talk to you about it, honestly, but there's something personal and urgent I need to attend to. Please warn the Guardians that the incidents are only in Burgess. The necromancer is looking for something.” Jack explained.

Sandy squinted and a question mark formed above his head.

Jack was many things but he wasn't a liar, and therefore hesitated.

“I don't want to talk about it…but they won't find it here.” he hoped Sandy wouldn't be offended.

A look of understanding came over the Guardian’s face and a golden snowflake separating from the silhouettes of the Guardians with a question mark formed between them. Jack interpreted this to mean he asking if Jack was ok handling it on his own.

“Yeah…yeah. Prefer it for this, actually.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After Sandy left, Jack decided Antarctica would be the best place to hide his corpse. It was isolated, not many spirits could travel there and linger without consequence. Even fewer would be likely to. It was vast so even if they did it wasn't likely they'd just stumble upon his safe zone.

He landed in an area he knew to be virtually untouched and glanced around. He wasn't going to just drop himself into a chasm and leave. He wanted a hard to notice enclosure. He mounted onto the wind in little sprints, toting his body around like a sack of potatoes, as he searched for hours.

Finally he found a cave that had a low and hidden entrance. Decided, he ducked in and began dragging the cadaver in after him. The cave was unusually dark and he couldn't tell how deep it bore into the ice, but he wanted to pull his body in as far as he could.

He had only struggled in about 25 feet when a smooth and familiar voice halted his grunting efforts. What were the odds?

“Frost? What business do you have…” Pitch stopped and trailed off as abruptly as he began. He looked as if he'd been caught off guard, and subsequently taken aback.

Jack imagined just what a fucking sight he made, lugging his own carcass straight into his enemy's lair. Ex-enemy?

They silently gazed at the other, both incredibly uncertain.


	5. What the Cat Dragged In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is more than a tad surprised by an unexpected guest...or two?

After fighting tooth and nail against his nightmares he truly conquered very little, some small fears of his. The rest seemed more innate to his being than he could possibly stave off or deny forever. Long forgotten pieces of himself started appearing more and more, and he realized it had started the moment he met Jack. He wasn't sure how, or what about the boy prompted this change. Perhaps the same reasons he had so wanted him for an ally. It was frustrating to find he hadn't quite been a whole, complete being after all this time, even before his fears had torn him asunder.

He'd spent months fitting himself back together but in the end he still found there was a long way to go, and he couldn't seem to find the key to unlocking the rest of the puzzle. He was still vulnerable, weak, so he removed himself from any and all population. To the icy expanse of the Southern Hemisphere, until he was hale and hearty, and once more ready to face the threat of other spirits.

Pitch had been peacefully minding his own business when he felt the presence of an intruder. He didn't have enough power to detect who exactly was the trespasser, or if there were more than one. He gathered up all that was left of his strength and went to cautiously investigate. He should run, but he had already run to the ends of the Earth, there was nowhere left to go, really.

He never expected to come across such a scene, especially not in his own--albeit temporary--lair. He had spent months fighting and eventually, painstakingly accepting his greatest fears, and was worse for the wear to say the least. Jack was meant to have found his destined path and preferred allies. So why in MiM’s name was he here in the lair looking just as lost and broken as Pitch felt? He had wanted to be angry with him, _had been_ until this moment, but it inexplicably faded.

He heard himself trailing off from his verbal confrontation upon spotting the corpse. He was not typically a crude man but, ‘ _What the fuck_ ,’ were his initial thoughts.

He never suspected Jack was a wight, and would one day be desperately trying to find a haven for his human corpse in his home, despite accidentally. Pieces of the frost wight started to fall into place as well, certain aspects of the boy that previously confused him suddenly making all the more sense. Although, this awkward standstill needed dispelling.

“Well…what do you have there, Jack?” He questioned coyly.

“I've done some things I'm not proud of, and find I need somewhere to hide a body.” It was nice to see that even in the most precarious of situations the little shit had room for humor. “Well you've caught me in the act...you gonna rat me out, narc?”

Pitch nearly snorted at the mere idea, but he elected to ignore the joke.

“Oh, Jack, now why would you bring that here? Wouldn't you trust your _precious_ Guardians with it?” He mockingly cooed. It was the wrong approach, he knew, but he couldn't change his foul nature. He felt the boy's fear resonate with his words and basked in it. “Or are things not working out as well as you so hoped?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Just because it's hard doesn't mean it wasn't the right choice.”

Pitch bared his teeth, but understood. Jack also couldn't change his righteous nature.

“You never answered. Why did you bring that here?” Pitch glared and pointed.

“Uh, presumably the same reason you're here? It's isolated, safe. Or _was_.” Jack drew the word out with emphasis, and began trying to nonchalantly drag the body back out. He fumbled his staff in the process. He picked it up and carefully repositioned, only to drop the damn body.

It was a ridiculous sight and Pitch couldn't resist using his shadows to swallow the thing right out of reach of his cold fingers. Pitch quite enjoyed their dynamic. After all Jack loved games.

“Hey!! No, no, no! Pitch, let me go!” He never sounded so despondent. It was lovely.

“Why wouldn't you just entrust it with Jolly Old Saint Nick? Christmas more important than little Jack’s problems? Too _gross_ for the tooth collector?” He hedged, digging for the root of his fears. He folded his hands together behind his back and slowly approached.

Jack snarled but didn't answer, his staff sparking menacingly. Still, Pitch felt the swirl of his anxiety.

“No? Still fear they won't understand? Afraid of their pity? Oh, Jack, you're so _proud_ of your sacrifice. It's true, pity would be plain insulting in the face of _such_ heroics. I understand, you know. I always do.” He slithered and coiled around the boy, inching closer and tasting his delicious fears.

“Just because you know my fear doesn't mean you understand it, Pitch! Give me back my body!” He growled as he turned to keep an eye on the boogeyman.

“I have made my own sacrifices, boy. You know nothing of the Nightmare King.” He wasn't surprised Jack wasn't told of the Golden Age by the Guardians. Perhaps they didn't even remember. He, himself, had only recently begun to recall such events.

“What are you talking about…?” Jack asked softly, brows drawn in confusion.

In response, Pitch tilted his head coyly and shrugged. He wasn't sure why he had said such a thing. His recent bout with the Nightmares had left him bereft of his sense of self. Still the dark spirit wasn't going to just hand out the secrets of his past. He was also afraid of pity, as he was recently forced to accept. Which, didn't necessarily mean he knew how to cope with it any better.

Jack was very obviously irritated by the dodge, but he also looked oddly contemplative. The boogeyman wondered what was going on in that frosty brain. Eventually the boy shook his head and sighed.

“Just...please, Pitch?” Back to the game then.

“Please what, Jack? It's precisely where you wanted it. _Hidden_.” Pitch teased and chuckled with mirth.

Instead of a swell of fear, or another angry expletive, as he expected, the frost wight’s negative emotions slowly muted, his face momentarily blanked. Unexpectedly he made eye contact, eyes bright and serious.

“ _Actually_ …”

Pitch balked. The boy simply couldn't be serious. “Oh?” He hummed smoothly.

“You're right though, it is hidden, and who would think to look for it here?” he sang.

“It's a dangerous game you're playing now…you should think through your next move more carefully.” Was this still part of their little banter? Was Jack toying with him?

“I mean really, what motive do you have to use it against me? Revenge? I'm not really feeling any true animosity from you. You seem...different.” Jack mused.

“That's not good enough, Jack. You have friends you can trust. I thought you sometimes naive, but I never took you for a fool.” Pitch lashed out. This was heading back into uncomfortable territory that he did not intend for Jack to tread upon.

“Uhhh you really should have, because I can be a damn fool and everyone knows it. I think I will be now, in fact. I'm gonna trust you.” Jack picked at his staff absently as he spoke.

“You shouldn't. Do you recall the last time you did?” He glanced pointedly at the shepherd's crook with a sharp smile.

“It's not like you're gonna snap my spine in half over your knee. Even when I was in your way you didn't try to kill me. Pitch, will you be my Guardian?” He asked sweetly.

“No.” He responded with obvious distaste for the term.

“So if anyone comes a tapping upon your chamber door you’ll just...hand it over?” Jack asked.

“Who would dare?” It was a serious question.

“A necromancer?”

Pitch did not gasp, he merely inhaled sharply. Jack was in terrible danger. Why would Jack try to enlist the help of his enemy over his friends in this situation?

“All the more reason to pick someone more trustworthy.” Pitch waved dismissively.

A strange look came over Jack's face, one he couldn't quite place. Then it slipped into an expression he did, a smirk. It was strangely suited to his young face, playful in a mischievous way.

“And you think that's _the Guardians_? Really?” Jack drawled in a British accent.

“More to the point, Jack, why don't you?”

“I don't want them to know this about me. I also seem? To have misplaced my corpse?” He began patting down his hoodie pocket as if it might be in there.

Pitch clicked his tongue. Jack was leaving something out, he knew, another reason. But he could tell pushing wouldn't get him the answer just yet.

“Very well, but don't think I won't use this to my advantage. You owe me a boon of my choice when I call upon it, Jack Frost.”

“Hmmm…’kay. Nothing evil though.”

“That, remains to be seen.”

They both gave the other a sly smile.


	6. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has a talk with the Guardians, Jamie, and a little someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to thank everyone who left a kudos and everyone who bookmarked this!! You're my motivation and ily!!! Over 50 kudos thank you all so much I'm so honored!

Jack was balancing on the precarious fence of doubt and resolution. Also, an actual fence, in Burgess. The dark blue and purple tones of night were in perfect contrast to the white of powder snow and the occasional yellow glow of a porch light. It mirrored the conflict of his mind.

He had initially thought the message from Manny was to trust Pitch Black in that moment, but he couldn't be certain of the context or meaning of such a vague symbol. After all it could have meant the complete opposite just as easily. Fucking MiM couldn't bother to be clearer though, _noooo_ , he's mysterious like that.

Instinct had told him that was the best place to leave the cadaver. The Nightmare King just so happened to be there. Jack wasn't quite inclined to believe it was all just a coincidence. He inherently trusted his instincts, despite often ignoring them.

Pitch truly seemed off in some way. He didn't seem kinder, softer, or other such nonsense, after all, he was still the boogeyman. But, perhaps he'd lost some of the absolutely vicious bitterness. Jack didn't feel threatened, and it wasn't because he had looked so washed out and flimsy.

Not that he often did feel truly threatened by Pitch, though he should. He was a reasonable and logical foe, using manipulation and fear as his main weapons against Jack instead of force and violence. He always seemed to hold back with Jack in that aspect, merely mirroring his level of skill. He was playing on Jack's fears in the cave, but it wasn't the same, far more...playful. It was…oddly endearing. _As ironic as that is_ , Jack thought and chuckled to himself.

An unusual, but soft, sound from behind him slowly broke him from his musings. It took him much longer than usual to recognize the sound as crumbling earth of Bunny’s opening tunnel. A wash of nervousness trembled and swam in his chest. He hadn't thought of what to tell them, and he didn't want to lie. As he turned, Aster grabbed his shoulders a little too tightly, a wild look in his eyes.

“You alright, mate? Why didn't you tell us it was just here? What exactly was the necromancer looking for?” He demanded in concern.

“Sandy told us you were handling it alone! Jack, why didn't you come to us? How are your teeth?” Tooth fluttered around him, shoving her fingers in his mouth.

Jack silently endured their overwhelming concern, it wasn't an apology but almost as appreciated and only just over his level of tolerance. Sandy laughed silently from outside the chaotic bubble, giving him a fond smile. Once Bunny reprimanded Tooth of her severe lack of respect for personal space, Jack sighed heavily, oddly tired, and still anxious.

“I was still upset, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you.” He admitted softly.

“Aw, you're alright, you gumby.” Bunny chuckled as he ruffled Jack's frosty hair. “What's the blighter after, anyway? What’d you do with it?”

“Yes, Jack, and how did you manage to find out?” Tooth added quickly.

“I, uh…” he hesitated. “It's something that was, uh, buried here, long forgotten. I found it before they did, a-and realized it's what they're here for. They are looking for it here, so I just...moved it...s-somewhere safe.”

“Jack what is it? Why didn't you bring it to us?” Tooth asked gently.

“Yeah, where’d you take it? Let's go get it.” Aster continued.

“It's, uh...it's mine. It belongs to me. I don't think we should...move it again. I-I think it's fine...where it is.” Jack insisted hesitantly.

“...Awful dodgy about it, mate. What aren't you tellin’ us?” He squinted in suspicion.

Jack paused, then grunted in resignation. The question he should have answered wasn't the one he did. He preferred to betray the Guardians’ expectations than have them betray his. Pitch’s recent taunting and prodding of his unspoken fears had only worsened his anxiety of them becoming true.

“I...gave it to Pitch.” He replied meekly.

A long silence ensued. Bunny’s face was blank. Tooth paled and her jaw open in horrified shock. Sandy just looked deeply contemplative, thankfully.

A maniac chuckle, wrought with dark humor echoed across the empty street. Jack stared at Bunny in quiet alarm.

“What IS IT with you and him?!” He shouted and Jack swore he felt his eardrums vibrate before they began to ring harshly.

“Jack, why would you do that? I don't understand.” Tooth asked in a hurt tone.

“It was mostly just...instinct. He seemed different and--”

“What a reliable and true friend you've just trusted with the fate of Burgess with!” Bunny interjected sarcastically.

“I know he's unreliable! But I doubt he wants to watch any source of fear be rendered useless to him!”

“Who knows what he wants! He's just a mass of…” he suddenly trails off. For a second Jack assumed he was avoiding swearing. But he realized there was something none of them were telling him. Something about Pitch. “Not you, not anyone, knows what his real motives are. It can't stay with him. Let's go, where is he?”

“Are you kidding? Why would he even consider giving it back if I just brought you all to his doorstep? That's a terrible idea!”

“Fine. Go alone. Get it back. Whatever it is. Bring it to North’s, bring it to the Warren, bring it to the Tooth Palace. I don't care. Trust us and we'll consider ever trusting you or your ‘ideas’ ever again. If not, don't bother comin’ back.” Aster concluded with obvious hurt and disappeared into the ground.

“Jack…why don't you trust us? You know you can tell me anything, don't you?” Tooth asked, sorrow lacing her comforting tone.

“It...it’s not about trust. I'm...I’m afraid. It seemed natural to leave my greatest cause of fear with...my other greatest cause of fear.” He admitted. Sandy flashed him sympathetic eyes.

“What are you afraid of, Jack?” She queried softly.

Jack didn't respond, and looked to the snow on the ground, picking at the knots in the wood of his staff.

“This, this right here, is where it's about trust, Jack. Go get your...belonging back from Pitch. Come back to us, and please, talk to us. Trust us.” Tooth spoke gently. With that she was off too.

Jack turned to Sandy, still watching as Tooth disappear in the sky. He too, turned to Jack. He silently sighed.

He didn't care whether with Pitch or with the Guardians he left the...question mark, if Jack told them what it was and why. When he was ready. With warm pat to his cheek and a charming smile, Sandy also left.

Jack hopped back onto the fence and idly walked along it as he processed everything. The Guardians all seemed pretty split on their opinions. Still, it felt like even though Tooth and Sandy weren’t asking much of him it was too much in some ways. Leaving his body with Pitch had very predictable consequences but he wasn’t sure quite where the hurt would come from with the group and it scared him just as much as his ideas of what might happen.

As he reached the end of the fence he jumped down into a fluffy pile left by a snowplow. It was slightly dirty but he didn’t care. He turned and saw a haphazardly put together snowman in the next yard over, and wondered if Jamie had taken any time to play outside and just be a kid recently.

Jack decided to stop by Jamie’s to give him an update, the kid had done so much work he deserved it. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t still too upset about Abby as well. Maybe a conversation about the good memories he had with her would serve to make sure he wasn’t avoiding the issue altogether as well.

As he drifted up to the window he could see Jamie already in his room, unpacking a backpack. Jack rapped on the glass with his staff, startling the young boy.

“Oh! Jack, you scared me!” he laughed, picking up the pencil case he dropped.

“Sorry, kiddo. I just wanted to tell you some of what’s happened since last time. Also, check up on you. How are you feeling?” Jack said softly as he sat on the desk.

“I’ve been sad, but I’m doing a lot better. I just miss her so much.” he paused and sat on his bed. “But my mom has been really nice, she made my favorite for dinner and I got extra dessert too. Have you found out who’s been snatching bodies?” Jamie chuckled as he bounced to sit on the edge.

“Well, no. I did find what they were doing in Burgess.” Jack considered telling Jamie the truth, but shook off the idea with a few stray snowflakes on his sleeve. “They were looking for something.”

“What? A spellbook? A super corpse?” Jamie scrunched his face in thought.

Jack had been stunned, but burst out in boisterous laughter soon after. “Something like that. Anyway I moved it, and the Guardians are understandably angry with me, so I can’t go back to them for awhile…”

“Why are they angry?” the boy asked, leaning in closer over the footboard.

“Because....I gave it to Pitch to protect.”

“What? Why? Why not take it to the Guardians?”

Jack was starting to consider that he might’ve made a huge mistake. On one hand, he didn’t yet regret his decision and felt mostly confident. On the other hand, everyone he knew and loved seemed to disagree and it was driving them away.

“It seemed like the right thing to do, at the time, but I’m not so sure now…” Jamie quietly considered his words and nodded solemnly.

“I don’t know what to think about it, but it seems like the others have said plenty.” The youngster smiled kindly.

“I’m gonna go think on it some more, okay? I’ll be at the usual spot if you need me.”

Jack slowly returned to the clearing of Burgess pond as he considered. He didn't want to just take back his agreement with Pitch, especially at the first issue with the Guardians. He'd known to expect that anyway. He didn't really want to tell Bunny or Tooth...specifically Tooth. He could tell North and Sandy but they likely wouldn't keep it from the other half of the group.

He sat down on the ice at the edge of the pond and sighed, spreading frost absently.

He looked up, straight into a glowing, green pair of eyes. They were hidden among the darkness of the treeline until he focused on them. Suddenly he was assaulted by the same horrible presence from Jamie's backyard. Clearly the owner of those eyes had been holding it back. Jack leapt to his feet and raised his shepherd’s crook defensively.

Corpses, some human, most animals, with flesh sloughing off bone and black with decay emerged from the tree line. He had been so focused on the eyes that he hadn’t even noted their approach immediately. Jack could hear the creak of tendons and the chittering of writhing maggots. They stopped in a semicircle around the figure. There must have been at least 50 of them. Jack felt like throwing up from the smell alone, not to mention that the aura emanating from the necromancer was far stronger and more intimidating than it was indirectly.

He stepped into the clearing casually, a friendly smile lighting his dark, handsome features. He wore a black tattered robe, with lime green, feathered fringes, and a silver chain necklace, adorned and practically dripping with small bones and skulls. As he crossed into the moonlight, the eerie glow from his eyes faded to reveal enchanting olive green irises. His long, creamy, ashen brown hair was braided and dreaded. He wore it intricately weaved over one shoulder.

"So, this is where it was.” A deep and rich voice echoed through the air. “Where is it now, Jack Frost? I no longer feel it's occupancy in this town.”

“Safe.” Jack whispers. _At_ _least_ _I_ _think_ _it_ _is_ , he thought.

“Are you unsure?” The man chuckles. Great. Another older dark spirit that's way too good at reading him. “You should be. I'll find it. You can't hide it from me for long.”

“Good thing it's a moving target.” Jack lied.

“Between the Guardians? I see.”

Jack growled in feigned anger. Sometimes it actually paid off to be underestimated by everyone. Why the hell would he have hinted it's location like that if it wasn't a misdirect? Older spirits were so pompous and superior.

“A daunting thought.”

Jack smirked.

“I'll have to systematically eliminate them in each of their homes and search them thoroughly.” He huffed in frustration, and Jack's smile waned. He laughed and continued, “Starting with you.”

“What?! I thought you needed me?” Jack retreated a few steps.

“Worry not, I'll simply incapacitate you.”

The corpses, instead of shambling slowly forward, as he expected, sprinted at him with alarming speed. Jack yelped and began fending them off with his staff, they simply got back up and into the fray, unaffected by pain.

He attempted to freeze one in place but it leapt over the shot, far too quick and prepared when Jack wasn't. He was tackled to the ground, clawed and bitten. The wounds, though rather shallow stang and burned terribly, as if poisoned, and he began to scream in pain. Jack felt heavy, beyond the weight of the minions atop him. He could feel his thoughts grow muted and distant as his consciousness began to fade. He tried to force himself to feel the terror and embrace it, drive it to action. He was too far gone to do more than struggle weakly.

“Shhhh, it will be over soon.” The necromancer chided more than soothed.

Jack's sight began to blur, and he whined helplessly. He heard the man as though he was deep under water, his voice sounding irritated but he couldn't make out the words. He felt himself be lifted into strong and warm arms, and darkness flooded his vision.


	7. The Buddy System, Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is really bored and confused. Also an update on Jack.

Pitch wasn’t sure why he made this ridiculous deal with Jack. Certainly a boon from Jack Frost could be useful, but not all that useful. Not to say, that the assigned task was particularly difficult. Protect the corpse. He really did not need to do much. It was already fairly protected just being in the Antarctic. Even if the Necromancer somehow knew to look here, unless he had already gathered a large army, he wouldn’t be much of a challenge for Pitch to defeat.

He had regained much power and stamina just from a little teasing with the frost spirit, he was quite full of fear and anxiety. It had been quite the feast. The necromancer would be already at a disadvantage in the harsh temperatures of the southern continent, if he even survived them. Pitch was no wight, and he had no weaknesses the cursed zombie puppeteer could exploit. No, the difficulty of the task Jack entrusted him with, was not the issue Pitch had with the scenario. It was the trust. How dare he trust the boogeyman. It was unusual and not necessarily unappreciated. However, still rather insulting.

Pitch wandered the icy caverns of his home away from home, deep in contemplation. He eventually realized he was headed in the direction he had transported the wight corpse, drawn there subconsciously. He had yet to get a good look at it yet, really, and perhaps moving it to a safer and enclosed section of the cave would stand to ensure it wouldn’t be found so easily. With a decisive nod, he continued further in his, now intended, destination.

When he came into the tunnel the body was face down in an awkwardly splayed position. He knelt down and carefully flipped it over to examine the thing. It was certainly strange to see a version of Jack Frost that wasn’t technically Jack Frost. A Jack he had never known, and would never know. A human boy. Colonial clothing and a tad starved looking. Plain. Brown hair. Pitch would bet the souls of innocent children that the eyes were brown too, though he would not pry the lids open to check. Yet, the boy would’ve been somehow special even then, in his mortal, basic, and quotidian life. Destined for greatness. Oh, what Pitch would’ve given to crush the human Jack with intense and vivid nightmares.

Scoffing, Pitch gently lifted the body into a bridal hold. After a moment, realizing what he was doing, he tossed it over one shoulder, in a fireman's carry instead. Just as effective, far less intimate. He wouldn't be rough with it, but it wasn’t fucking glass. There wasn’t much purpose to being gentle with it, it wouldn’t be affected by anything but magic. Still, Pitch felt it would be disrespectful to manhandle or toy with the cadaver. And, in many ways, he respected Jack.

He chose a harder to access, almost closed off, tunnel in the back of the cavern. It had a convenient ledge weathered into the ice that he could lay it on. Likely the frigid temperature it would be exposed to constantly here would be good for them both; body and boy. Begrudgingly, he rearranged the limbs to a more natural position. He sighed and closed his eyes, determined not to touch, look at, or think of the thing again.

He tried to distract himself with the gentle routine of reading, but the unrelenting cold of the antarctic wasn’t the best environment for books. Upon reaching the alcove, where he had stored a few classics, he found they had frozen to each other and the ice shelf.

Sighing, he began to consider what even might be done for the tomes. Perhaps, the tedious process of using an extension cord, his shadows, and a heater of some sort. Though he doubted that would even effectively work, and it would take far too much energy. Glaring at the ice, he declared them a lost cause.

Still, he was determined to resist the maddening urge to check on the body. Yet, hours later, he returned. Staring. It felt somewhat rude, but he was baffled by it’s presence, felt the need to assure himself it was really there. Again and again. Each time he wandered away to busy himself with something else, he eventually found himself back in that spot.

On the third or fourth return he noticed something...off. There were faint blue marks on the corpse’s face. Thin lines, trailing from his forehead to his chin on one side. Pitch traced them with his fingers and found they matched up pretty similarly. Scratches.

He knew he hadn’t left those marks, and neither had Jack while transporting it. He would swear they hadn’t been there the last time he came to check. They were oddly ghostly in characteristic, as well. As if they weren't really there. The only thing that could affect the body indirectly like that was the spirit. Goddammit, Jack.

Pitch traveled through the shadows, appearing in the Burgess woods by the pond. He wasn’t exactly sure where to look but Burgess was a safe bet. Thankfully he didn’t have to search far, the aura of the necromancer was like a bonfire on empty, flat land. What he saw sent him into an unexpected rage. Where were the fucking Guardians? Why was Jack still alone?

Using his shadows he forced the rotting corpses away from his charge’s weakened form. Baring his teeth, he turned to their master.

“Ah, if it isn’t the Nightmare King.” The necromancer drawled, sounding highly displeased. “Why are you interfering? Don’t you and the Guardians have a strict discord?”

“We do. Feel free to kill the others. _This one is mine_.” he hissed, picking the boy up and departing quickly. Jack was injured and extremely at risk. He needed special treatment and care, fast. There was really only one place Pitch had that sort of information and materials. His old lair.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Coming to was not an easy or fun process. The burning had lessened into a dull, throbbing pain. It was mostly numb, but the feeling of exhaustion and weakness was far more overwhelming. He tried to look around but he couldn’t sit up. There was mostly darkness and cave walls, but Jack could see a figure in a black robe sitting just barely in his line of sight. Irrationally, he cried out and tried to escape backwards on...a bed?

The figure turned and approached the fluffy surface with a deadly smile. It was Pitch.

“Ohhh, now isn’t this a lovely sight.” he cooed, clearly and thoroughly enjoying Jack’s dread.

“P-Pitch?” Jack’s voice was rough and scratchy from screaming so hard earlier, but he calmed, knowing he wasn’t with the necromancer.

The Nightmare King’s amusement faded with Jack’s fear. His face shifted between pensive, angry, confused. So, Jack wasn’t the only one out of sorts. Better he started simple then.

“How did you find me?”

“The necromancer’s aura was practically a beacon.” The boogeyman sneered.

“Why did you save me? How did you know I needed help?” he asked next. Honestly did...did Pitch follow him or something?

The Nightmare King merely squinted at Jack like he was stupid. He was a touch disoriented from pain and injury, his head was heavy with fog and it was difficult to think, but that wasn’t relevant. He was certain he was asking completely reasonable questions.

“What?” Jack asked defensively.

Pitch shook his head and sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them they looked hardened, burning.

“First, you asked me my protection. Second, the corpse, you fool.” He growled.

“I’m sorry... _the corpse told you_?”

“Why weren’t you with the Guardians, Jack?” Pitch demanded in quiet anger.

“They were mad I was with you. Wanted me to get back what I gave you. I didn’t tell them what it was.” Jack mumbled, his throat too sore for true volume.

“Why don’t you?”

“Take it back to them or tell them?”

“Both.”

“W-well I can’t give it to them now! The stupid necromancer thinks they have it!”

“How idiotic of him to come to a perfectly logical conclusion.” he hummed sarcastically, waving his hands about dramatically.

Jack glared at the dark spirit. “Listen, I get it…”

“Do you, Jack?” Pitch crooned.

“Yes, but it doesn't matter what you think or what they think. This was my decision.”

“Was it your decision to be alone?”

“Well…to go back to you alone.”

“You shouldn’t be by yourself with a necromancer stalking you. The Guardians of Childhood should know better. You should know better.”

“Are you suggesting I need a babysitter? And would you have appreciated their presence even if were to protect me? Them knowing where you were hiding?” Jack chuckled, but it devolved into a fit of coughing.

“I’m suggesting you use the buddy system, Jack. And, no.” The Nightmare King growled with mirth.

“Did you really just say that, or am I worse off than I thought?” Jack smiled and leaned back, eyes half open.

“Perhaps it’s both?” He smirked.

“Are you a part of my buddy system, or is this just part of our deal?” Jack mumbled, fading once again from consciousness.

For a moment he thought he’d already fallen asleep.

“Get some, rest.” a surprisingly gentle voice whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> This my first fanfic my guys how's my driving?


End file.
